


Retaliation Most Frustrating

by Bee_Charmer



Series: The Challenge is Knowing When to Give in [2]
Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: CEO Lexa (The 100), Doctor Clarke, Dom/sub Undertones, F/F, Phone Sex, Teasing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-22
Updated: 2018-05-22
Packaged: 2019-05-10 04:15:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,322
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14729766
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bee_Charmer/pseuds/Bee_Charmer
Summary: After Clarke made Lexa stand in a bar surrounded by the people she works with and listen as she sought release on her own, Lexa has a few ideas on how to pay Clarke back for leaving her so frustrated. Unfortunately for Clarke, Lexa is almost too good at retaliation.





	Retaliation Most Frustrating

**Author's Note:**

> After all the comments on A Most Welcomed Distraction and all my thoughts about how these two can keep this back and forth going, I've decided to split this work up into a series. If you read this as the second chapter of AMWD, I apologize for getting your hopes up that part 3 was already up but hey, if your comments are to be believed, you'll definitely enjoy reading this one again...

Her feet were sore. Clarke had been at the hospital for well over thirty hours, barely sleeping as one person after another was brought into the emergency department. She was worn out, aching, and still loved every minute of her job. 

All things considered, it had been an easy shift. She’d stitched up several lacerations, stabilized heart attacks, sent a particularly nasty broken arm off to surgery, but in every case, she got to tell the families that their loved one would be okay. No one had died. 

Of course, her shift was not entirely over and she’d been working in hospitals long enough to know a shift could take a turn for the worse at a moments notice. Clarke also knew, however, that sometimes you needed to acknowledge the good days as well. Which was why she’d texted Lexa after a man threw his arms around her, tears still staining his cheeks, when she’d told him his wife was a little banged up, but would recover just fine from an accident that totaled her car. 

That had been over an hour ago and Clarke hadn’t stopped reaching for her phone to respond to message after message as often as she could. 

“Dr. Griffin!” 

Clarke turned to see Harper flagging her down from the slightly parted curtain of bed four. 

Frowning, Clarke quickened her pace as she thought about the patient inside. Eighty year old woman. Zygomatic laceration. Five stitches. No orbital fracturing. Under observation for possible concussion. 

As soon as Clarke ducked inside, the woman’s smile put her at ease. 

“She said he wanted to talk to you directly, Dr. Griffin.” Harper said, her light tone making it clear Clarke could let the rest of her concern fade. 

“Well what can I help with that your nurse can’t, Mrs. Thornton?” Clarke asked. 

“Where do you keep the wine?” 

The woman wasn’t able to keep a straight face as she asked and Clarke heard Harper’s laugh fading behind her as she returned to the nurse’s station. 

Clarke rolled her eyes, unable to bite back her own laughter as she asked, “Did Harper put you up to this?” 

“That lovely nurse suggested some vodka once I’m feeling better but I have to say I’ve always been more of a wine drinker.” The woman grinned. “She also suggested that I might be released if a doctor would be so kind as to sign off on the paperwork.” 

“Well I do have to admit we haven’t seen much of a reason to keep you overnight.” 

“Wonderful! I’m glad I didn’t tell my husband to go get the car for nothing.” 

“Okay, Mrs. Thornton, let me see what I can do to get you out of here and keep your husband from waiting too long.” Clarke said, unable to stop herself from thinking about how she wanted to tell Lexa about the firecracker of an old woman. 

Before long, Mrs. Thornton was on her way and Clarke was working on finishing the chart to hand off to Harper. 

“Not long before you’re out of here, right?” Harper asked as Clarke leaned against the counter of the nurse’s station. 

“Only five more hours to go.” Clarke answered. 

Harper took the file as soon as Clarke finished. “Take a few of those to get some sleep. Hopefully it’ll be a couple hours before I have to page you in for anything.”

Looking around the department, Clarke could barely think of a reason to insist she needed to stay. Even for a Tuesday afternoon, it was quiet. Which meant she got more sleep than she would expect for a normal shift, but when the opportunity presented itself, it was always best to rest for as long as possible.

“As long as you’re sure.” Clarke absentmindedly reached for her phone. “I told a friend I would meet her tonight and the extra sleep would be nice.”

Harper grinned. “We all know that friend isn’t just a friend.”

Clarke couldn’t help but notice how her cheeks warmed as she saw she had missed messages from Lexa. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Clarke said, opening her chat with Lexa. 

**Lexa:** It sounds like we definitely have cause to celebrate tonight. 

**Lexa:** Although please know I understand if you need to reschedule. You’ve had a long day. 

**Lexa:** … a long couple of days, I suppose. 

Clarke felt a knot form in her stomach at the thought of canceling on Lexa for the evening. They’d seen each other a few times since Lexa had returned from her latest business trip… since Clarke had called her late one night, letting Lexa listen as she sought the release she craved. But even those few times they’d seen each other hadn’t felt like enough. 

Nothing felt like enough. 

Not anymore. 

**Clarke:** And miss out on whatever dinner you have planned for me? I wouldn’t dream of it. 

Because they were going to dinner. Lexa was picking her up and they were going to dinner. Neither of them had called it a date, but they both knew what it was. And they both knew what it meant, both knew this thing between them wasn’t the casual fling they first began. 

Harper cleared her throat. 

“Go get some sleep, Clarke.”

“Ah, right.” 

Clarke let out a slightly embarrassed huff of a laugh as she put her phone back in her pocket. 

“Feel free to page me if I’ve been asleep for a while and you get bored.” Clarke said with a wave, walking toward the on-call room.

Harper called after her. “Don’t think I won’t tease you about how much you’ve been looking at your phone today. I’m just being nice and waiting until you’re more rested!” 

It took a significant portion of Clarke’s willpower not to raise her middle finger in response. Instead, she turned to offer the most innocent smile she could manage as she backed away. 

If Harper hadn’t seen her pull her phone out again, Clarke might’ve managed to avoid Harper’s burst of laughter. 

Clarke couldn’t help but raise her finger then, hoping Harper saw it before the door to the on-call room shut behind her. 

**Lexa:** As pleased as you know I will be to see you, you can let me know if you change your mind. 

**Clarke:** I’ve had more sleep this shift than the last two combined. 

Clarke typed more. Deleted it. Typed it again. She hit send with her heart racing. 

**Clarke:** You won’t be able to back out of this date that easily. 

A date. 

**Lexa:** Backing out would only be a cruelty to myself since I have been looking forward to our dinner since I last saw you. 

Shedding her white coat and making herself as comfortable as possible on the bed, Clarke couldn’t help but smile at Lexa’s words, at the honesty she knew was wrapped in each message. 

**Lexa:** In addition to looking forward to other things… 

Clarke felt her smile sharpen, felt the grin turn to a smirk. 

**Clarke:** And what other things might those be? 

**Lexa:** You’re rather quick to respond now… I assume that means you have a break? 

**Clarke:** I’m in the on call room since I considered getting more sleep. 

**Clarke:** It seems like I might need to be well rested… 

**Lexa:** If you want to come back to my place later and let me pour you a glass of wine I know you’ll like, then yes. 

**Lexa:** If you want me to lean over and kiss you with the taste of that dark, rich wine on our lips, then yes. 

**Lexa:** If you want me to take off your dress at the end of the night, trailing kisses down your body with every new inch of bare skin exposed, then yes. 

Clarke felt her breaths quicken slightly, a minute difference she knew Lexa would point out if she were sitting across from her. 

If she were on the bed with her. 

**Clarke:** It’s rather difficult to want to sleep when you’re sending me messages like that. 

**Lexa:** Am I too distracting? 

Clarke watched the ellipses appear immediately. 

**Lexa:** I’ve wanted you all day. 

**Lexa:** In every meeting, I can’t help but let my mind wander to how much I want to kiss you. 

**Lexa:** How much I want to feel your body under mine. 

**Lexa:** How I want to make you so wet for me you can’t help but beg. 

Clarke’s mouth went dry as she read over the messages again. Then again. 

Her phone began to ring before she could think of what to say. 

“I assume you’re alone?” Lexa asked, ignoring any pretense of a greeting. 

“Yes.” Clarke said. 

“Do you know what else I’ve been thinking about?” Lexa asked. 

Clarke didn’t answer, knew her answer didn’t matter. 

“I’ve been thinking about how you called me that day.” 

Clarke’s voice shook slightly as she asked. “Do you still like that I did that for you?” 

“I fucking loved it.” Lexa’s reply was immediate. Intense. “Which is why you’re going to let me hear you again.” 

The wetness between Clarke’s legs grew with every word, the ache in her chest sinking lower until she found herself squeezing her thighs together, desperate for some pressure where she needed it most. 

“Tell me, Clarke, how wet are you already?” Lexa asked, voice rough with desire. 

“Lexa…” 

Clarke knew the answer, could feel her need. 

“I want you to tell me how wet you are. Reach between your legs, let your fingers gather some of that wetness I know is already there.” 

“I’m,”—Clarke gasped as she slid her hand under her scrubs—“I’m already so wet.”

“Lock the door.” Lexa said. 

Clarke eyed the door and hated the thought of getting up, of moving her hand away even after such a short time. “I don’t think—“

Lexa cut her off. “Lock the door, Clarke. I don’t want anyone walking in on you. I don’t want anyone to see what you look like when I’m telling you how I want you to fuck yourself.” 

The command sent a jolt through Clarke straight to her core. “Fuck.” 

There was nothing Clarke could do but listen, letting Lexa know once the lock clicked into place. 

“Good. Now I want you to get back on that bed. And Clarke? Don’t touch yourself again until I tell you to.”

Clarke felt the mattress shift under her weight, imagined the first time Lexa had used that voice on her. Clarke had pushed her the whole night. She’d teased. Forced Lexa into proving she meant every word she’d said about what she could be like in bed. And damn, she’d been better than Clarke had even expected. 

“I might get paged back to the floor, Lexa.” Clarke said, trying to ignore how much more she wanted to let her fingertips press against her core now that Lexa commanded her not to. 

“Do you want me to stop?” Lexa asked. 

Clarke remembered those words, remembered asking the very same question to Lexa. 

“No.” She said, imagining how dark Lexa’s green eyes would turn at the admission. 

“Good.” Lexa said, her voice steady, an anchor. “Tell me, what are you thinking about now?”

Clarke played with the waist of her pants, ran her fingertips along the warm plane of her stomach, aching to slip her hand lower. 

“I’m thinking about much I love your voice when it gets like this.” 

“I know that’s not all. Keep talking. You didn’t seem to have a problem with that the other day.” 

“Fuck, Lexa, I want to touch myself. I’m so god damn wet right now.” 

“I’m sure you are. I’m sure you’re aching for my touch. You want my hands on you.”

“Yes.” Clarke breathed. 

“You want me pinning you to the wall, sliding my hand between us.” 

Clarke’s hips rolled, seeking some sort of pressure that could bring her relief. 

“Yes, Lexa. I do. I want you.” Clarke said, her hand sliding just a little lower despite her instructions. 

As if she could hear a change in Clarke’s breathing, Lexa said. “I told you not yet, Clarke.” 

Clarke sighed in frustration, Lexa’s knowing chuckle meeting her ear. 

“I want you dripping for me. I want you aching with need. I want you so desperate for that touch you’re willing to beg for it.” 

Clarke’s jaw clenched. “You know I don’t like to beg.” 

“You know that’s a lie.” Lexa’s voice was laced with cockiness. “It’s just that you only like to beg for someone who won’t put up with this defiant streak of yours, someone who is worth giving in to.” 

“I could just get myself off right now without your permission.” Clarke said. 

Her hand moved over her body, tracing unseen patterns on the inside of her leg, running over her hip, across her stomach. 

But never where she needed the touch most. 

“You could. And I will hang up the moment you begin to.” Lexa said. 

Clarke almost hated how calm her voice was. 

“So the question is, Clarke, do you want to pretend like you aren’t mine and still get off to the thought of my fingers deep inside you, my mouth on you, and my hand on your hip pulling you into me? Or so you want to get off to my voice telling you what to do? Do you want to get off _for_ me, Clarke?”

“Fuck.” 

Lexa’s soft chuckle was barely audible. “That’s what I thought.” 

“Lexa, I…” Clarke began, her fingertips barely slipping under the edge of her scrubs. 

“Feel how wet you are. Feel what just the thought of me can do to you.” Lexa said. 

Clarke didn’t need to be told twice, her hand immediately pressing between her legs. She bit back a moan as soon as her hand ran over her swollen, desperate core. 

“I love listening to how your breathing changes. Do you know that?” Lexa said. “Keep touching yourself, let me hear that hitch in your breath as you make slow circles. Not too fast. Not yet.” 

Clarke struggled to form the words, “I need…” 

“I know what you need, Clarke. I said not too fast.” 

The only response Clarke could manage was a frustrated huff as her hand continued in slow, methodical movements which only served to make her increasingly wet. 

“I want you to slide one of your fingers inside yourself.” Lexa ordered. 

“That’s not enough.” Clarke protested as she did what she was told. 

“Curl it inside you. Keep your palm pressed against yourself. Fuck yourself nice and slow.” 

Clarke’s breaths were laced with frustration, increasing with every push of her finger, every attempt for it to be enough to fill her. 

It never could be. Lexa knew damn well it couldn’t. 

“I need another, Lexa.” 

“Say please.” 

Clarke groaned. “Fuck you.” 

“One little word and I will tell you to push another finger inside yourself.” 

“Lexa…” 

One wasn’t enough. It was never enough. 

“Say it.” 

“Damn it.” Clarke throbbed, needed more. “Please.” 

She spat the word out. 

“Give yourself another, Clarke. Fuck yourself with two fingers. Fill yourself as best you can.” 

Clarke moved her fingers within her, built herself up with each stroke. She could feel the intensity through the phone, knew Lexa was listening intently to every sound she made. 

“It’s not the same as me inside you, is it, Clarke?” Lexa asked. 

Clarke sighed, a deep raspy moan building in her throat. 

“Is it?” She asked again. 

“No.” Clarke whispered. 

“Deeper.” Lexa said. 

“I can’t…” 

“Lift your hips for me, Clarke. Push your fingers deeper.” 

“Fuck, Lexa.” 

“I know you can. I know you can do it for me.” 

Clarke pushed her legs apart, rolled her hips around the fullness of her fingers. She curled her hips upward, lifted, imagined Lexa’s long fingers pressing deep within her. 

Her breaths were ragged, the pleasure building as her fingers worked within. She lifted her hips higher, stretching her wrist and pushing deeper than she ever had before. She couldn’t help the raw, unbidden moan that escaped her parted lips. 

“That’s my girl.” 

Those simple words nearly sent Clarke crashing over the edge. 

“I don’t know”—Clarke fought to speak through her building moans—“how you can make me do this. This feels so fucking good.” 

“But still not as good as when I’m the one fucking you.” 

“Fuck. No, I need it to be you. Lexa, I’m getting…” 

Clarke’s pager went off. 

“Fuck!” Clarke yelled, her groan of anger entwining with the sudden frustration of removing her fingers from deep within her. 

“Clarke?” Lexa’s voice lost the sense of control, lost the roughness. “Everything okay?” 

Clarke was already fixing her scrubs and at the sink to wash her hands. “Sorry, Lexa. My pager went off, I have to go.” 

Lexa laughed. “Oh don’t apologize to me. I think you’re the one who is probably more sorry…” 

Clarke groaned, trying not to think about how close she was. Trying harder not to think about how wet she would be for the next several hours. 

“I guess you’ll have to make it up to me later then.” Clarke teased. “But I do have to go.”

“Bye, Clarke.” Lexa said, her smile audible. 

Clarke threw on her white coat and tucked her phone into her pocket as she raced out of the on call room. 

At least if she jogged, she might be able to pretend her uneven breathing and undoubtedly flushed cheeks were from hurrying to receive their newest patient. 

“What do we have, Harper?” Clarke said as soon as she reached the nurses station. 

Harper nodded toward the bay doors to the ambulance drop off. “Lincoln and Octavia called in and should be arriving any second.” 

Clarke rushed out, hoping to help with unloading the patient as soon as the ambulance pulled in and Octavia threw open the doors. 

She stopped in her tracks as soon as she stepped outside. 

“Please tell me you did not do this on purpose.” Clarke said, infinitely more aware of what she was just doing now that Lexa was standing across from her. 

Lexa grinned. “You know, it helps to have an EMT cousin who happens to also be friends with a nurse you’re working with. All it takes is a little text to call in a favor and I can have you paged.”

Clarke stared at her in disbelief. 

Her grin turning into something much more suggestive, Lexa stepped forward. “I brought you your favorite drink though. Since it seems someone might have… interfered with that rest you were trying to get.” 

“I am going to…” Clarke started, not sure exactly where her threat would lead. 

Lexa didn’t let her finish. 

With her arms wrapped around Clarke, Lexa leaned in to whisper in Clarke’s ear. “No. You aren’t going to do anything. Not yet. Not until after our date when I am going to make what you just did to yourself feel like nothing. I’m going to take my beautiful girl out and then I’m going to fuck her like she knows only I can.” 

Somehow, Clarke felt the knot in her stomach tighten further. 

“I hate you so much right now.” She eventually said as Lexa pulled away. 

“No, you don’t.” 

“Fine, I don’t.” Clarke acquiesced, sipping her latte. 

Lexa kissed her briefly. “I know you are still technically working, even if you might’ve gotten a little distracted, so I can let you get back inside. I will see you tonight?” 

“You definitely can’t get out of it now.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it.” Lexa said with a smile, backing away toward her car.

“Thanks for the drink.” Clarke said, knowing she could not keep the frustration from her voice. 

Lexa laughed. “Oh, anytime at all.”

As Clarke watched Lexa climb back into her car, all she could do was count down the hours until Lexa’s taste was on her lips and those fingers brought her bliss.

**Author's Note:**

> Leave me a message here or over [on Tumblr](http://beecharmerwrites.tumblr.com)!


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